Poem - Archibald Nigel Guy Irving

Poppy Day

By Archibald Nigel Guy Irving

Armistice Day, 11 November 1920.

Oh poppies glowing scarlet ‘gainst the bosom of a maiden,

Of a maiden selling poppies to the mourners for the dead,

Were you gathered in a garden where the air was heavy laden

With the perfume of the jasmine and the roses white and red?

Did you turn your fairy faces to the sun in pleasant places?

Did you whisper scented secrets to the lily and the rose?

Did you greet the tender primrose in the garden which it graces?
Did you droop your head in slumber when the day drew to a close?

I too have had a garden, and the tender plants I cherished

Were heavy with the promise of their tribute to the sun;

But an icy blast has swept it, and the fairest flowers have perished

And have broken from the branches ere their blooming was begun.

And the buds I saw unfolding, and the flowers that I tended,

Have fallen in their glory, and have crumbled to decay.

They have vanished from the garden, and their glad, brief day is ended,

And the bursting buds are withered and their beauty passed away.

Poppies! Scarlet poppies! I will take you as a token.

I will lay you on the altar as the sacrifice of one

Who would pay a lowly tribute from a spirit bruised and broken

To a flaming flower that perished as it opened to the sun.